


The Flesh Curtains

by Lilium125



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Concert, M/M, Rick and Morty - Freeform, Sex, The Flesh Curtains, Young Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilium125/pseuds/Lilium125
Summary: Rick played without plectrum, caressing the strings with long fingers with skill and sang with a scratchy voice, giving support to the vocalist. Morty was completely enchanted, without realizing it he carried the rhythm with his head, every piece he liked so much and even if in some he did not even understand the words, the music entered him.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	The Flesh Curtains

The alley was narrow, dark and smelled of pee. Garbage cans had been overturned by a small group of guys in yellow T-shirts who were running like crazy stray cats, escaping from a Morty gang shooting. the Citadel worked like this. Or rather, Mortytown worked like this.

The Rickless Bastards had no one to control them, they were completely at the mercy of themselves, alone and addicted sometimes they killing each other. It was the usual war between the poor.

Sometimes some cop Rick went to bring some order to that neighborhood, but often someone died, just like this time.

Agent Rick was lying on the ground and his partner Morty was motionless not far away in a pool of blood. Neither of them breathed.

A Morty watched the scene from the corner of the alley, looking around to make sure there was no one else but him. He had seen everything from the beginning of the shooting, waiting for the right moment to intervene. A dead agent meant only one thing: weapons and money. He had to advantage that nobody was there to loot the corpses. He ran to cop Morty, stealing in his pockets and taking the order gun, without feeling anything while he's touching the body of himself. A lucky himself, with a job, a happy life, _a Rick_.

Morty moved away from the body of the youngest and approached the old man cautiously. He searched in the pockets of the cop, took Rick's plasma gun and slipped it into his pants, looking around and keeping to search, but he didn't find what he wanted most: the portalgun.

The Ricks on duty at the Citadel - in Mortytown - probably weren't carrying it just to keep it from being stolen. Fuck.

Morty continued to rummage in the pockets of the corpse, but found only a flask and a strange device. When he heard footsteps coming from the bottom of the road, he ran away with the booty.

It wasn't what he wanted, but it would have brought him some money.

He ran to his house among the gray buildings all the same, in a dark and damp basement, with a moldy cot, a dirty kitchen and a toilet with a sink in the corner. There were no windows.

He was sure that the prison wasn't so seedy either.

He washed the blood from his hands in the dirty sink and threw himself on the bed, checking better what he had stolen. Two guns could be sold at a good price, but the flask was worth nothing, every Rick had one, nobody needed it… he would have drunk it to celebrate, so he put it in his pocket.

The device that Rick had, Morty had never seen it: it was as big as the palm of his hand, a kind of black and smooth cube. He looked at it closely, looking for an opening point, found a very small button and pressed it, immediately the cube began to open, unfolding until it became thin and wide like a black and shiny tile. Morty let him go on the mattress and bright alien writing appeared on the upper facade. They seemed vaguely familiar to him and he didn't know what to do, so he instinctively put a finger on the words, like children who learn to read and scroll letters. The words responded to his touch, scrolling horizontally or vertically, as if they were words written on a tablet. As soon as the boy left the screen, the small platform glowed green so much that it dazzled Morty, who went to shield his eyes with his hand. A moment later he desappeared.

When Morty reopened his eyes he thought he was in a dream.

He was no longer in his basement in Mortytown and he freaked out when he realized it. He was in the midst of many people - aliens moreover - in what must have been a 1980s club. It was certainly not better than his home/room, equally dirty and run down, but despite this it was packed and loud music rumbled in his ribcage, with a fast pace. Bewildered and frightened, he looked for a less crowded place to understand what the fuck had happened and elbowing and slipping between people he managed to hide in the bathroom, where he finally managed to breathe and think, since the music was lower and there was nobody. He looked in the mirror: how the fuck had he got there? It must have been that strange device he stole. Damn, was it some kind of teleportation? How did he get back to the Citadel now? The device had folded back on itself, returning an anonymous black cube.

Staying stunned there he would have solved nothing, he would have left the club and tried to understand first of all in what dimension he had ended up. He would have found a solution ... he couldn’t use that heck of a cube, he was afraid to reactivate it. What if he threw him in yet another place instead of bringing him back?

Someone entered the bathroom from the door behind him, Morty looked at him from the mirror without turning around, immediately putting the device in his pocket: was it… a cat? He had red fur and walked on his hind legs and looked at Morty with his head tilted to the side, his ears long and pointed straight.

« Go away, I have to _squanch_ here! », he shouted at him with a shrill little voice, waving a bag of blue powder in his right paw. Morty winced and immediately left the bathroom. He didn't want to fight with anyone, but he wanted to go away from that place as soon as possible. He thought of asking the bartender of what galaxy he was in, on what fucking planet he was lost.

Morty went over to the counter and raised a hand to attract the attention of the tall bartender with four reddish arms. He had two bald and green heads, so he served two customers at the same time, but he seemed to deliberately ignore Morty, who after a while lowered his arm, feeling stupid.

« If you have no money in hand, he will never listen to you, ‘lil guy », said a voice to his right.

Surprised, he turned to look who had spoken and he was speachless. He was a Rick, but not a Rick as he knew him: he was younger, he could have been thirty years old, and he was dressed like a rocker. His hair was of the usual blue color, but less messy, longer and more flowing. He had a choker with a ring, bracelets with studs and an electric bass hanging upside down behind his back.

He.Was.Fucking.Cool.

Rick snapped his fingers in front of Morty's face, chuckling, then turned to the bartender.

« Hey, Glaxor, a round to the _chico amarillo_ , I offer! », he said with a cursed smile. The barman immediately placed a glass in front of Morty, who shook himself, closing his mouth.

_Chico amarillo_? What kind of fucking game was that? Morty stared at the shot glass in front of him, undecided whether to drink it or not.

He returned his eyes to Rick, who was now studying him, but not as he was accustomed to being looked at by Rick – like a ball and chain, like an excrement under the shoe or as a sexual object – but he looked at him with interest, as if he were something new to discover. He blushed, it was not normal. Rick didn't seem upset that Morty stared at him dumbfounded. Evidently he was used to being watched.

« You are not from here », he said finally, drinking from the beer bottle on the counter, there were already two finished next to it. His was not a question, but an observation. Morty just shook his head, not knowing what to say. He expected the usual question, which was a stab to the heart every time and to which he never answered. He took the shot glass and brought it to his mouth.

_Where's your Rick?_

« Do you have a name? ».

Morty almost choked on alcohol, which ended up in his throat and nose. He began to cough, his eyes watered. He was beginning to understand…

Rick laughed heartily to see that scene, but was distracted, called by a ringing voice.

« Hey, Rick! Stop _squanch_ , we have to go! », it was the cat Morty had seen in the bathroom, his slit pupils extremely dilated in his yellow eyes, he was waving his drum sticks in his paws to attract Rick's attention, who replied with a wave of his hand. He got up from the bar stool, running his fingers through his hair. Now that he was on his feet, Morty could see better how he was dressed: a black leather coat covered a light blue vest that he wore wide, leaving his chest uncovered, the band of the electric bass passed diagonally from the shoulder to the side, black leather pants and a skull-shaped belt buckle caught his attention for a few seconds too long. Rick's large, warm hand went to take his chin between his index finger and thumb, making him look up. Those gray eyes were magnetic.

« _Hasta luego, guapo_ », she said with an cursed grin and followed the cat into the crowd.

Morty was out of breath, shocked both by what he had just experienced, and by the awareness that his mind had just settled: that Rick did not recognize him, because that Rick had no grandchildren. A still young Rick, different from the Citadel Ricks…

So he hadn't traveled in size, but had traveled through time. He took the device out of his pocket and looked at it. He had no idea how he operated it, but decided he would worry about it then… now he had more to think about. He walked away from the counter, reaching over his toes to see if he had seen Rick's unmistakable hair in the crowd.

Finally she saw him, on the other side of the hall, on the stage. He was leaning over an amplifier, fiddling with the volumes. Morty's gaze slid to the leather pants, which perfectly wrapped the bassist's ass. Holy shit…

He crept among the bystanders to get as close to the stage as possible and managed to gain a good position, a little lateral, but he could see the strange group very well. Now Rick was adjusting the microphone stand, the cat was on drums – the name of the band "The Flesh Curtains" stood out in red on the bass drum – and he was adjusting the height of the hihat with a bored air and a bird-man talked to Rick, with a microphone in hand.

Morty ate every movement of the bass player with his eyes and when the music started he could no longer hide the excitement.

“ _Nothing really matters_

_Everything's a lie_

_Free will's an illusion and_

We're all going to die”*

Rick played without plectrum, caressing the strings with long fingers with skill and sang with a scratchy voice, giving support to the vocalist. Morty was completely enchanted, without realizing it he carried the rhythm with his head, every piece he liked so much and even if in some he did not even understand the words, the music entered him. The crowd in front of the stage was participating, someone was singing along with them and the boy found himself clapping his hands during the drums solos and screaming some refrain. During a ballad he even borrowed a lighter. He was having fun like it hadn't happened in a long time, since ... he didn't want to think about it.

“ _Though i may travel_

_Far and wide_

_And leave my home behind me_

_I know that if I lose my way_

Then home come to find me”*

Morty had only eyes for Rick, who held the stage beautifully, walking briskly around the singer and drummer - Birdperson and Squanchy, had heard their names screamed by the audience - and was tremendously sexy. Each movement seemed designed to attract eyes to itself and, even if held sideways or behind the other two members of the band, it still attracted attention by lowering the head and shaking the hair or leaning back to back to Birdperson. Towards the end of the last song, after a formidable solo, Rick turned his back and launched himself among the fans, who held him up, sliding him between hundreds of hands, until the end of the crowd in front of the stage. Morty lost sight of him and was panicked. He didn't want to lose him, but he couldn't move from where he was either, because Squanchy had started playing his solo with a fast rhythm and the people around him had started to pog, jump and scream.

After the concert the two remained on stage greeted and went down sideways, satisfied and sweaty. Morty had to wait for people to disperse inside the room before she could move and ran to find Rick. He obviously found him at the bar, his back resting on the counter and surrounded by female and male aliens, who flattered him. One in particular, who looked rather human, if it weren't for the electric blue hair, the blue skin and the three eyes, laughed sharply, taking advantage of every opportunity to touch out to the bass player, who was enjoying it greatly.

Squanchy was sitting nearby, drinking alone without brakes and Birdperson was a little on the sidelines, chatting with a beer in his hand with the waiter.

« What the fuck, Rick, _squashed_ a room! », Squanchy yelled in his direction, laughing. Rick seemed to find it a good idea, because he whispered something in the ear of both, who set off in what appeared to be a private room, and following them with his eyes he ordered something to the barman, who passed him a bottle of beer already uncorked and was in that moment that he noticed Morty looking at him dazed like an idiot.

The bassist motioned for him to come closer with his head, while he lit a cigarette and Morty shook himself, finally able to move. He approached him uncertainly and a little embarrassed.

« So – he began, his elbows resting on the counter behind him – what did you say your name is? », he took a sip of beer, without taking his eyes off him. Morty crossed his arms over his chest, sitting on the stool next to him.

How many did he want to tow that night?

« I n-never said it. And you d-don't have a gallant date? », he said trying to stutter as little as possible and making the sign of the quotation marks on the last word. Rick grinned and sucked the cigarette he had between two fingers, bringing his face close to that of the boy so much that Morty felt his breath. He tasted of smoke and a little alcohol and something else that he could not quite define.

« They can have fun even without me », he blew smoke on his lips in a tone that actually said quite the opposite and Morty felt his legs soften and his cheeks redden. He made an effort not to cough so as not to give him satisfaction. Rick came so close that he barely touched the boy's mouth, Morty had a heart that was beating so hard with excitement and on impulse he made to approach and kiss him, but the bassist backed away quickly, giggling.

« Then? Do you want to continue being mysterious? ».

« And you? D-do you want to continue being an asshole? », irritated, he showed him his middle finger, eating what looked like chips from the saucer on the counter.

« Oh, of course yes, _querido_ », he threw the cigarette butt into the empty beer bottle and turned his back on him, walking slowly towards the private room he had indicated to the two aliens before.

« Morty. My name is Morty », he said breathlessly, watching him go.

Like a dumb he believed he could lead the game, but even if younger, even if in some way different from the Rick to which he was accustomed, even if he didn't treat him "as Morty", the one in front of him was always a Rick. And a Rick cannot be tamed. And that Rick, just as he was, was like a wild horse. Free from anything, even from himself.

Rick turned, his satisfied expression revealed that he knew he had got what he wanted, and reached out to the boy, holding out his hand. Morty went against him, but did not take his hand, he just stayed close to him and that hand he had not grasped went to hold his side with possession, while with the other he grabbed his chin as he had done a few hours earlier.

« Rick and Morty, I like how it sounds… », he bit his lower lip and Morty turned his head and felt a suspicious pulse between his legs. Rick squeezed him closer to him, caressing his lips with his tongue, making him short of breath. Morty parted his lips, inviting him to kiss him, and he was so taken that he did not give weight to a familiar noise behind him and a moment later the bassist canceled the distance between their lips, pushing on Morty so as to make him fall backwards, but instead of ending up on the ground he found himself dominated by Rick on a worn sofa.

« Wha-? W-where… ».

« Sst, it's my home », Rick whispered into his ear, biting a lobe and kissing his neck. Morty spent only a moment of his mind thinking that perhaps they had ended up in a dimensional gap, but he was shivering with excitement and just wanted to enjoy the moment. The erection pressed into his pants and hugged Rick to him scratching his back, the gesture seemed to charge more the man who settled between the boy's legs, rubbing himself on him and going to take off his yellow shirt and unbutton his jeans, without never take your lips off his. He kissed like a god, and Morty shyly responded to his kisses, his inexperience excited even more Rick, who grabbed the boy's member with his whole hand, masturbating him. Morty was red in the face and shaken with pleasure, moaning and clutching Rick's jacket to let off steam, not to scream, trying to contain himself not to come immediately.

« Scream, Morty, let me hear you like it ».

« N-no, Rick… I d-don't want already… ».

« Oh, yes instead… », he said in a whisper increasing the rhythm of the hand, squeezing his cock harder and whispering " _Puedes venirte ahora_ " in his ear and even if Morty did not understand half a word he could no longer hold back his orgasm, shouting with pleasure and letting himself go completely between his hands, coming on him. Rick bent down between his legs, licking a bit of semen from Morty's still throbbing penis and returned to his lips in a lewd and perverse kiss.

Without stopping the kiss she helped him take off his pants and Morty took his shirt off the ground to clean his belly, but Rick stopped his hand, with a criminal grin, shaking his head and snapping his tongue. He grabbed Morty's wrists with one hand and held them firmly above his head, while with two fingers he collected some of the liquid from the boy's belly, with which he went to lubricate his ass. Morty's eyes widened as he felt his fingers massaging him and he stiffened, but Rick knew what he was doing, he touched him with determined movements, full of experience. He slowly slipped both fingers, enjoying the boy's every moan.

« Oh, no sabes lo que te espera », he chuckled and on his knees between Morty's legs he unbuttoned the belt buckle and pulled down the zip, from which we could see the pubic hair of the same color of his hair. Morty would have given anything to understand what the hell he was saying.

Without even lowering his pants he freed his erection and Morty held his breath noisily: it was huge and the man rubbed it, bathing it with the same seed with which he had moistened the boy.

« P-please… b-be gentle… », wailed Morty. He didn't know what else to say and despite the fact that he had just come, he still felt excited.

« Scared? », Rick leaned over him, still keeping his arms locked on his head, and started rubbing the cock between his buttocks and moaning softly on Morty's shoulder and tried to enter. Morty raised her legs slightly to make room for him, feeling him enter slowly. He bit his lips and despite the pain he wanted it with all of himself. He was already tense between his legs again.

« R-Rick… », he moaned softly and hearing his name seemed to remove lucidity from the man who pushed him to the bottom with less delicacy. Morty screamed, but wrapped his legs around Rick's waist, which he began to push harder. The room filled with gasps and moans of pleasure.

With a fluid movement, Rick let go of his wrists and without going out of his ass pulled him up, astride him. Morty began to move, guided by the other's hands that squeezed his buttocks and dictated the rhythm, he dipped his fingers into his hair, panting on his mouth.

« I'm c-coming, Rick… ».

« Me too, Morty », They both came to orgasm, shouting each other's name and collapsed on the sofa, close and panting.

Shortly thereafter, Morty gathered his clothes off the ground, ready to get dressed.

« What are you doing? ».

« I dress… ».

« Why, are we done? Give me time for a cigarette and a beer, then let's start again ».

Morty dropped his clothes and his jeans made a metallic noise, intrigued he dug into his pockets and felt the device that had brought him there. He quickly pushed him back to hide it, he had no intention of returning to the Citadel, that Rick liked him to die for, but he was also a little afraid. What would have happened if he had stayed? It was a fucking paradox, although he didn't want to think about it before, the one in front of him was still his grandfather, even if he didn't know it.

In his pockets he also found the flask he had stolen from Agent Rick, he had forgotten it ... he waved it and felt that it was quite full, so he handed it to _his_ Rick.

« Hold, t-try this », Rick snorted his cigarette smoke and uncorked it by smelling the whiskey inside. He smiled and took a sip.

« Fuck, you know about whiskey ».

« Y-you can keep it, I don't need it », Morty murmured shrugging. To hell with the paradoxes, he never wanted to leave.

Rick slipped it into the inside pocket of his leather vest. He would never separate from it again.

He gave a loud burp, took off his clothes and with a hungry and full of desire look at Morty, gesturing for him to sit on his legs.

« Let's do it again ».

*the lyrics are taken from “Rick and Morty presents: The Flesh Curtains comic #1”


End file.
